


How to Train Your Downer

by MoWolf



Series: Only a Little Broken [3]
Category: We Happy Few (Video Game)
Genre: Arthur's convinced the world is out to get him, Human Pet, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Indulgent, Whump, and he's not entirely wrong, potentially triggering content, will add tags as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2019-10-11 13:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17447555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoWolf/pseuds/MoWolf
Summary: After living years as a downer, Arthur didn't expect to survive after being discovered and cornered by an angry mob. Instead he found himself in the care of an odd couple. Constable Davies just wants Arthur to behave and be the perfect, spoiled pet he never got to have. Dr. Green wants to figure out how Arthur flew under the radar for so long without even a blip. Verloc...Well, it's best not to think about what Verloc wants from Arthur for now...





	1. The Heckening

**Author's Note:**

> Rewriting my original story (now titled "The Fallen") because I want to write something specific and everything kind of derailed suddenly. I especially want to work in some scenes that I glossed over or skipped entirely originally. A few chapters were have rewritten segments from the original story, but things will likely diverge after the first couple of chapters.
> 
> As always, comments and suggestions are more than welcome!

Waking up was a fight from start to finish. A fight that Arthur wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to win. In his semi-lucid state, he could vaguely make out bright colors that swirled together as the room swam in front of him. He could still feel the phantom hands grabbing at him and he tried to brush them off. Moving was a mistake as pain danced up his side and settled in his ribs with every breath. How many were broken? He wasn’t certain, but he guessed at least three, one of which he knew was out of place.

Arthur relaxed into the mattress as he tried to sort out the most recent events. He’d been running from a doctor, he remembered that. The doctor had recognized him despite the cheerful greeting and bounce in his step. Next thing he knew, a group of doctors and bobbies were all after him and he’d… what? What happened next?

They’d caught him. That much was obvious. But how? He couldn’t remember. Despite the pain, Arthur rubbed at his face in frustration. Had they given him Joy? Or did he just have a concussion? He didn’t feel particularly happy, so maybe he hadn’t been pumped full of drugs. So that left brain damage.

Wonderful.

With a small sigh, Arthur closed his eyes and tried to relax again. He didn’t appear to be in any immediate danger. Besides, it wasn’t like he could actually do anything even if he was. Better to just go to sleep and deal with the situation whenever it happened. With that thought, he stared blankly at the ceiling until he finally fell asleep.

\---

It was several hours before Arthur woke up again. He knew that from the light now streaming through the window. It was nice, and reminded him of a better time. Breathing still hurt, but the rest of his body was beginning to remember the beating and now he felt like he’d been run over by a train.

And he was still alone.

The longer he waited, the greater the risk of getting caught. Still, he couldn’t just leave. Not out of politeness or any sense of gratitude. Just trying to move caused shooting pains and he was pretty sure most of the muscles around his left hip were bruised and sprained, if not outright torn.

Actually, he should probably start with a basic self-assessment to see just how bad the damage was. That made much more sense. First things first, what hurt?

His ribs, obviously. The left side hurt worse and Arthur vaguely recalled someone stepping on him. The worst of the pain seemed to be when he was inhaling. Collapsed lung, possibly? Or just bruised muscles protesting any kind of movement?

Then there were his arms. His right shoulder ached in a “hit the ground and skidded” kind of way. His left, however… He couldn’t move his shoulder without an intense pain and a quick palpation revealed swelling and yet more pain. Dislocated? If so, it appeared to have been put back in place (rather roughly at that). At least it wasn’t all bad.

The rest of his pain seemed to be from blunt damage, and even that was localized to his left side around his waist and hip. Not nearly as bad as he had predicted. He’d anticipated deep cuts and even an amputation. If bruising was the worst he had to deal with, then he’d be fine in the long run. At the present moment, he felt anything but fine.

Arthur stared at the ceiling for a few minutes as he slowly collected his thoughts. With every passing minute he could feel the fog in his brain clear away a little bit more.But with clarity came fear. From what he could recall, he was the only downer actively living in the Parade District. This begged an important question: who rescued him?

None of the possible answers were good. He couldn’t risk sticking around. He had to leave. _Now._ But, oh, it would hurt so badly! Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. First things first, he had to get upright.

Getting himself into a vaguely sitting position was absolutely torture. He could only put weight on one arm while the other was (thankfully) carefully bandaged into a sling against his chest. With only one arm, though, it meant he had to use mostly core muscles to get upright, which in turn pulled on his chest and ribs.

It took entirely too long, but Arthur finally managed to sit up and gently swing his legs over the edge of the bed. He took a few minutes just to breathe before he finally stood up-

And immediately went down. There was something wrong with his hip and the moment he put weight on it, a sharp pain shot down his leg and it gave out, sending him crashing to the floor on his bad shoulder. His vision sparked and he found himself screaming and clawing at his shoulder as if he could rip the pain out if he just dug his fingers in far enough.

The door slammed open and suddenly a constable and a doctor were crouched over him, talking to each other. Arthur only caught snippets of their conversation, though, as his pain turned to panic and he tried to get away despite the hurt.

“Hold him down!”

“When did he-”

“-medicine, quick!”

“Shouldn’t even be awake!”

“Not too much!”

The constable grabbed Arthur and roughly flipped him onto his back. He wheezed, though whether out of pain or panic he couldn’t tell, and jerked his head away. Next thing he knew, his jaw was grabbed and forced open while the constable’s other hand shoved his bad shoulder into the carpet. Arthur howled and jerked but the hands held firm.

There was a clack of metal against teeth and Arthur shuddered at the sound, only to gag and spit when the thick sludge hit his tongue. It was like an awful combination of yogurt and gasoline, made infinitely worse when his jaw was released only to be forced and held shut.

Doing his best to scream through his nose, Arthur clawed at the constable’s arm and kicked with his (mostly) good leg. No amount of squirming and writhing would get him loose and the two men were determined to get him to swallow despite his protests.

“The sooner you swallow, the sooner you’ll feel better,” the doctor said, leaning back on his heels to watch Arthur more easily.

The bobby simply grunted when Arthur managed to scratch his mouth. “I still say he- akpth!” He bit Arthur’s fingers gently and they quickly retreated to claw at the hand over his mouth. “His breathing’s getting bad.”

“Yes, well, that’s his own fault now, isn’t it?” the doctor said casually. “No idea why they want to keep him off Joy. Maybe Verloc has something planned for him? There we go!” His voice pitched up as Arthur gave one final attempt to shove the officer off before finally swallowing. “That’s a good lad!”

Arthur gave a weak growl at the baby talk but quickly went quiet quiet. His throat hurt from yelling and he just wanted to wash the awful taste out of his mouth. Already his body was beginning to reject the medicine (if he could even call it that, good lord the stuff was awful). Maybe they’d have mercy and leave him alone to his suffering.

Surprisingly, the bobby got up and carefully lifted Arthur off the floor. He was too sore and tired to fight by then so he allowed himself to ragdoll in to man’s arms. Nothing really mattered anymore. He was trapped with the two worst possible people to be captured by and was completely at their mercy. Maybe they’d feel sorry and put him out of his misery quickly, though from what he’d overheard that was unlikely.

And then he was being settled back in the bed. An extra pillow was tucked under his shoulders to keep him somewhat elevated and help him breathe easier and the blanket draped over him before the two men stepped away. Arthur watched them cautiously as they held a whispered conversation before they left. The doctor returned a few minutes later with a chair and a radio, both of which he set up next to the bed.

For twenty minutes Arthur glared while the doctor simply sat and smiled at him pleasantly. The radio played soothing music in the background. Eventually, though, his body decided that sleep was more important than the impending doom sitting nearby and, despite his best efforts to stay awake, he found himself relaxing into the bed and finally nodding off completely.


	2. Many Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING! Near the end of the chapter, Arthur gets a pretty hefty beating. The actions described may be triggering, but I'm more worried about the fact that Dr Green says some things that I know can be triggering for anyone who's gone through heavy abuse. It starts when he says, "Why can't you behave?" and goes through to the end of the chapter. Also, swearing.
> 
> If you feel there is a warning that I'm missing, PLEASE tell me! I want to make sure that no one is caught off guard by anything!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... have no excuses. Life slammed me hard, but I'm back! And after this chapter, I'll be writing everything from scratch. Shooting for weekly updates so that I don't burn out this time. :)
> 
> To everyone who left kudos and comments, thank you all so much! It means so much to me and those comments are what were able to pull me back! Thank you thank you thank you! <3

Arthur woke up to strong hands hauling him upright. It was the worst possible way to wake up and Arthur yelped as pain shot through every bruise and broken bone in his body. He jerked himself forward, which seemed to catch the hands off guard because they let go and he slammed his head into something hard which pulled away with a sharp, “Aaah FUCK!”

“Language!” another voice snapped.

“He headbutted me!”

There was a laugh from behind and Arthur growled as he was grabbed again and pulled back. “Pretty impressive if you ask me.” Was that… admiration? Or were they just impressed?

“Well I’m not asking.” There was a huff before the man in front leaned close enough that Arthur was able to recognize him as the doctor from the previous night. “Now look here,” doctor Green said, grabbing Arthur’s chin in a tight grip, “you’re going to relax and let us take care of you and that will be that.”

“You’re living with us now,” the constable - they were far too tall to be anyone else - said cheerfully, “so don’t bother complaining about it. Besides, the sooner you let it happen, the faster you’ll heal up and the sooner the good doctor can start working with you.”

Arthur didn’t even bother thinking the offer over. He spat on the doctor’s face and snarled, “Make me!”

The look he got was thoroughly unimpressed. The doctor gave Arthur’s head a hard shake and then let go. “Make sure you hold him securely, Davies,” he said as he grabbed the medicine bottle off the bedside table. Arthur blinked in surprise. When had that gotten there? He didn’t get to think about for long, though. The constable pulled him closer and wrapped one hand around his chest while the other tilted his head back and pried his mouth open.

Oh no. No no, not this again. No way was Arthur letting that sludge back in his mouth. He didn’t care how much he hurt, he would rather take the pain than taste that hellish concoction again! He squirmed, kicked, yelled, and tried desperately to close his mouth until he’d thoroughly chewed up the insides of his cheeks. Davies clicked his tongue to catch the doctor’s attention, who turned around, gave Arthur a quick once-over, and shook his head.

“Honestly, Arthur,” he set the bottle down and placed a hand on Arthur’s knee. Perhaps it was supposed to be comforting but Arthur only shuddered and pressed himself as far back into the constable as he could as the doctor leaned in close.

The spoon didn’t scrape against his teeth this time, but Davies didn’t close his mouth in time, either. The hand clamped over his mouth just in time for Arthur to spit, resulting in a slimy coating between his face and the officer’s hand and an exasperated “Oh good lord!”

As soon as the bobby pulled away, Arthur let out a triumphant laugh and immediately regretted his decision when the spoon was jammed back into his mouth. Only this time the doctor didn’t pull it out, but pushed further and dumped. It was far enough back that Arthur choked and swallowed without thinking and the doctor smirked.

“There we go. Much better than last time,” The doctor said cheerfully as he set the bottle and spoon to the side. He gave Arthur a friendly pat on the cheek and then set about cleaning up the mess. Arthur snapped at the doctor’s fingers only to have his head grabbed forcefully and given another hard shake. “Bad! We do not bite!” Arthur snarled but was unable to move until the doctor finished wiping his face and finally let go.

Once finished, the officer took some time to get Arthur carefully settled back on the bed while the doctor rubbed his face. “He’s fine, Davies. Give him some space before he takes your fingers off. Maybe he won’t fight back as hard tomorrow.”

Arthur growled at them until he heard the door shut. Only when he was absolutely certain that they weren’t immediately coming back did he finally relax into the bed and close his eyes. The medicine was drugged to make him sleep, he was certain. Still, better to sleep with the knowledge that he wasn’t in any immediate danger.

\---ᕕ( ᐕ )ᕗ---

Keeping Arthur perpetually drugged was a fantastic idea on paper. In practice it was… Hm. Medicating him during the day was easy. He was already drugged out of his mind and too tired or medically high to do much beyond ramble at the two men. Mornings, however, were a fight from start to finish. Arthur had gotten very clever as spitting and biting and already constable Davies was beginning to collect a rather impressive collection of bite scars on his hands. Even so, neither men were willing to stay up all night to make sure that the medication never wore off.

Worse still, Arthur was beginning to have unpleasant side effects. Every dose came with an ever increasing risk of him throwing up, and the doctor found himself spending more and more time making sure that Arthur was still breathing. He’d developed a nasty habit of rolling onto his stomach and almost smothering himself in his pillow, whenever he didn’t just stop breathing spontaneously.

A month and a half and both men were thoroughly done with having to keep 24/7 watch.

“I think it’s time we cut back,” Davies said.

“What?”

“Arthur.” He opened the fridge, considered, and then closed it again and instead sat at the table. “This isn’t working and I vaguely remember Verloc saying he wanted Arthur alive. You know, breathing and such.”

The doctor nodded with a sigh. “How long until he starts fighting again? A week?”

“I give it three days.”

It did not take three days, or even a week. It took three weeks of twice a day dosings before Arthur finally started fighting back properly again. 

 

This particular morning was no different. Arthur spat and screamed while Constable Davies tried to hold him still and Doctor Green did his best to get Arthur to actually swallow for a change instead of making a mess over himself and the bed. In a fit of frustration, Green had stormed out of the room and returned with a syringe without a needle.

“Since you insist on being difficult, let’s try something different,” he snapped. Arthur yelped as as the syringe was jammed into his mouth and he bit down hard. “Don’t bother,” the doctor said, his frustration already beginning to ease off. Now that Arthur had something else to chew on, he didn’t have to worry as much about risking his own fingers to get the job done. “Now, let’s just get this over with-”

Green didn’t get to finish. Arthur gave a sharp jerk of his head and snapped his jaws open and shut. There was a sharp crack and suddenly Arthur was yelling in surprise as he spat out a mixture of medicine, glass, and blood.

Green was stunned. The glass of the syringe was thick. It took effort and determination to break one of those and he’d never run across someone who could consciously break one. Then again, this was Arthur, rather famous among the doctors for his willingness to do anything necessary to escape.

Even so…

“Oh for the love of- Davies, hold his mouth open!” The doctor jerked a pair of long-nose pliers out of his jacket pocket and silently praised himself for accidentally sticking them there. A part of him felt bad for Arthur, who now clawed desperately at the bobby’s hands which held his mouth open uncomfortably wide. The rest of him was beyond done with the whole mess.

Thankfully, there wasn’t much left to pick out. A few pieces of glass had managed to lodge themselves into Arthur’s gums and Green took pleasure in each yelp and whimper as he jerked them out. Once he finished, he pushed himself up and sighed. “You really aren’t going to behave, are you?”

Davies’ brows shot up at the doctor’s tone and even Arthur stilled in confusion. “Sir?”

The doctor shut him down with a quick wave of his hand and said, “Shouldn’t you be leaving for patrol? Wouldn’t want to be late. Again.”

Davies considered for a moment before nodding and letting Arthur go. “Well, if you’ve got everything under control-”

“I always do.”

“-Then I suppose there’s nothing more for me to do here.” He tipped his head as he stood up and left the room.

The doctor waited until he heard the front door shut before he rounded on Arthur with a snarl. “Why can’t you behave?” He roared, grabbing Arthur’s shirt and yanking him forward. Arthur yelped in protest and was about to retort when the doctor shoved him on to his back. “All you had to do,” the doctor continued, Grabbing Arthur’s hips and digging his fingers into the joints as hard as he could, “was listen to me!”

Arthur howled as white spots danced across his vision. He’d forgotten just how bad his hip hurt and having someone actively trying to hurt him only made the pain worse. As the doctor refused to let up, he twisted sharply to free himself and flopped onto his stomach with a wheeze. He didn’t get a chance to recover as the doctor yanked him back and climbed into the bed.

“You brought this on yourself!” The doctor spat, grabbing Arthur’s left arm and pulling it back sharply. Arthur shrieked as his shoulder threatened to pop out of its socket again and did his best to angle his shoulders to ease the pain. The doctor only followed the motion with a snarl. After a moment of twisting, he finally eased Arthur’s arm back to the bed.

Arthur gasped into the mattress as the pressure from his arm finally let up. Once the doctor let go, he started to crawl forward only to have his hair yanked back. Green leaned down and asked, “Are you ready to behave?”

He really should have agreed. Instead, the adrenaline rush and panic mixed together in a seething mess of fear and rage and Arthur spat, “Make me!” He recognized his mistake the second the words left his mouth, but it didn’t really sink in until the doctor sat back with a deep sigh.

“If you insist.”

Arthur squeaked in fear as his left arm was grabbed again and lifted slowly. His shoulder protested as it rotated and he couldn’t decide which was worse: having his arm yanked back and up suddenly or twisted slowly so that he could feel the pain growing with each second. Just when the pain was getting bad enough to make him whimper, the doctor stopped twisting and leaned down.

“You were assigned to me. Do you know what that means?” Arthur angled his head to look as far over his shoulder as he could and gave a small shake. “It means…” There was a sharp twist and Arthur shrieked as his shoulder popped, “I can do whatever I want provided you don’t actually die.” Green let go and watched passively as Arthur’s arm flopped onto the bed. For a moment he listened to Arthur scream before he finally slid off the bed with a sigh.

“Shut.” He flipped Arthur over easily and yanked him down until hips were only barely on the bed. “Up.” He pressed his right hand over Arthur’s mouth to muffle the noise. Arthur didn’t stop, but the noise level was bearable now. “You’re in my house now. When I say ‘jump’ you say ‘how high’.” Arthur shook his head and clawed at the hand that blocked his airways. “And when I tell you take your medicine, you take you’re goddamn medicine.” He emphasized each word with a hard shake before he finally pulled his hand away.

Arthur gasped and wheezed for a moment before he started to squirm away. Once again, he didn’t get far before the doctor pulled back and slammed a fist down on Arthur’s chest. He exhaled sharply at the contact only to have the doctor grab his throat and press, preventing him from inhaling.

For a moment he was too stunned to do anything. Was this really happening? Was this how he died? No! He wasn’t ready to go yet! He gurgled and clawed desperately at the doctor’s sleeves as his feet sought traction against anything. Suddenly, the doctor let go and he inhaled as hard as he could, triggering a coughing fit.

“Let’s try this again,” the doctor said calmly as he tilted Arthur chin down to make eye contact. “Are you ready to behave?” Arthur did his best to nod in the iron grip and the doctor smiled. “There we go, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I knew you’d come around.” He patted Arthur on the cheek before he stepped away and left the room.

Arthur slid down to the floor and leaned against the bed until the door clicked shut. Safe at last, he leaned over until gravity took over and he fell onto the carpet. He had to move slowly and stop repeatedly to catch his breath, but he managed to worm his way under the bed. With a small sob, he curled into a protective ball. He cradled his dislocated arm against his chest while his right muffled his sobs for fear that the doctor might hear and come back angrier than before.

He couldn’t breathe, everything hurt, and the new pain stacked onto the old with nothing to even dilute it. All in all, Arthur decided that this ranked as, quite possibly, the worst day of his life. Even worse, there was no telling when the doctor would decide to come back and finish the job. With that thought, he sobbed and wheezed until the adrenaline crash pulled him into a fitful sleep.


End file.
